CHAPTER X

BATTLE FOR SUPREMACY

WHEN a borough had won from its lord full rights of self-government,

its battles were not yet over. The next effort of the town authorities

was to secure complete power over all the inhabitants within their

walls, so that they might compel all alike to submit to the town

courts, and to bear their share of burdensome duties, such as the

payment of taxes, the keeping watch and ward, the defence of the town,

the maintenance of its trade, or the enlargement of its liberties—in

fact to take their part as good citizens in all that concerned the

common weal.

For all towns alike, whatever were their chartered rights, had to

reckon not only with their own lord of the manor, but with the great

people, whether king or noble or bishop or abbot, or perhaps all of

them together, who might own a part of the land within their walls,

and might all assert their various and conflicting rights, and

multiply officials of every kind with courts and prisons and gallows,

to vindicate the lord’s authority. Thus in Warwick in the eleventh

century, when the population was scarcely over a thousand, the King

held a hundred and thirteen houses, and various lords and prelates

owned a hundred and twelve, while there were nineteen independent

burgesses who had the right of sac and soc. So also in the time of

Edward the First there were five gallows in Worcester and the district

immediately round the city. One belonged to the town, another to the

bishop, and a third to the Earl of Gloucester, while two more were

set up by the abbots of Pershore and Westminster who held property in

the borough; all of which lords and prelates had the right of hanging

thieves and rioters in this little community of about two thousand

inhabitants.[576]

A new municipality, face to face with these traditional claims, and

powerless before the customary rights of property, could only fall

back on friendly treaties by which both sides might win advantage

from peaceable compromise. As soon as the burghers had won chartered

privileges of trade and freedom from toll throughout the kingdom, they

had something to offer to their neighbours, and the bargaining began.

They could propose to grant protection and a share in their privileges,

and would demand in return that the tenants of alien lords should

contribute to their taxes and take part in public duties, and perhaps

acknowledge, in some respects at all events, the authority of their

courts. But the progress of the negociations and their final result

underwent considerable modifications, according as the townspeople had

to deal with the constable of the King’s castle; with some lord who

held property in the borough; or with an ecclesiastical settlement,

whether cathedral or monastery, planted within the liberties.

I. The Castle Fee was a bit of the royal territory altogether

independent of the municipality. In Bristol, for example, the castle

had its own market at its gate; and its inhabitants were exempt from

the town justice, so that if one of the tenants of the fee committed

a crime he was sent to Gloucester thirty miles distant instead of

being tried in Bristol itself. Since the castle fee lay outside the

jurisdiction of the town, its ditches became the refuge of felons and

malefactors flying from the bailiffs, and as late as 1627 it was stated

that two hundred poor persons were dwelling within the precincts who

mostly lived by begging, besides a number of outlaws, excommunicated

people, and offenders who found them a hiding place, and when soldiers

and sailors were impressed great multitudes of able men “fled thither

as to a place of freedom, where malefactors live in a lawless

manner.”[577] From his position as the king’s lieutenant the governor

or Constable of the Castle in important frontier or seaport towns was

a very great official, with an authority as military commander which

gave him the right of interference in local affairs, and whose power

might easily prove a real danger to municipal institutions.[578] In

Bristol, where the mayors after their election “did fetch and take

their oath and charge at the castle gate” from the constable as the

representative of the King, he was practically the official arbiter in

any crisis of town politics, and when a revolt of the commons broke out

in 1312 against a handful of merchants who controlled the municipal

government, the party in power at once claimed the constable’s help

against their fellow-townsmen. Thereupon the commons assaulted the

castle and built forts against it, so that the forces of three counties

which were marched to the rescue by their sheriffs could not quell the

riot; but the castle party finally triumphed, the insurrection was

violently put down, twelve burgesses banished, the rule of those who

had usurped privileges claimed by the whole commonalty confirmed, and

the enemy of the Bristol burghers, Lord Maurice of Berkeley, appointed

by the King “custos of the castle and town.”[579]

It was only however in a few boroughs that exceptional military

difficulties made the post of governor one of great or permanent

authority, as for instance in Bristol or Southampton. And even in

these towns a good understanding was before long established between

king and burghers, and powers exercised by royal officers which

impeded the free developement of municipal life were withdrawn without

jealous alarms on the sovereign’s side, or prolonged agitation on the

part of the town. The Bristol mayors were freed by royal charter from

the necessity of taking their oath from the constable in 1345. And

in towns such as Norwich, where military considerations early became

of comparatively little importance, the castle tenants were made to

contribute to the city taxes in the thirteenth century, and in the

course of the next hundred years, were put unreservedly under the

control of the city authorities.[580]

II. There were not very many cases where a lay lord became a formidable

enemy to municipal freedom, either from the extent of his property

in a town, or from his power of enforcing his claims. Such disputes

as did arise were settled in various ways by purchase or friendly

compact, or by gaining from the Crown a charter which conferred such

rights of control as were necessary for discipline and order. Boroughs

on the royal demesne naturally found themselves supported by the King

in urging these demands, but the appeal to force always lay behind

the legal settlement, and there was occasionally a serious battle

before the question of supremacy was finally decided. A bitter fight

was waged between Bristol[581] and the lords of Berkeley, who owned

Redcliffe, and claimed the river where they had built a quay as part

of their lordship; who had their own courts and their own prison; who

held their own markets and fair; and who broke the Bristol weights and

measures, and refused to take the measures of assize from the mayor

even though in such matters he acted as the King’s marshal. They fought

long and fiercely for their power, even after a royal charter in 1240

had given the jurisdiction over Redcliffe to the mayor.[582] In 1305

an energetic young lord Maurice of Berkeley to whom his father had

given Redcliffe Street tried to assert his rights, but at the ringing

of the common bell the Bristol men assembled, broke into Maurice’s

house, took away a prisoner from him, and refused to allow him to hold

any court, or to buy and sell any wares in Redcliffe Street. Upon this

the young lord, appearing with “great multitudes of horse and foot,”

forced the burgesses to do suit to him, and cast those who refused

into a pit, while the women who came to help their husbands in the

fray were trodden under foot. He set free prisoners from the Bristol

gaol, assaulted Bristol burgesses at Tetbury fair, claimed dominion

over the Severn, and seized the Bristol ships. All this did Maurice,

“than whom a more martial knight, and of a more daring spirit, of the

age of twenty-four years, the kingdom nor scarce the Christian world

then had;” and the mayor and burgesses left King and Parliament no rest

with their petitions, telling of outrage after outrage committed by

him, till commissioners were appointed to examine their complaints, and

to Lord Maurice the sequel of this angry business was a fine of 1,000

marks, afterwards commuted to service with the King’s army with ten

horsemen. A few years later moreover the Bristol men found opportunity

to avenge their bitter grudge, for when he was taken in rebellion the

mayor and the commonalty, “out of an inveterate hatred and remembrance

of former passages,” threw into the common gaol every man who was even

suspected of having adhered to the faction of Maurice.[583] Troubles

again broke out in 1331, and the mayor and burgesses gathered at the

ringing of the common bell for an assault on a Lord Thomas of Berkeley,

destroyed his tumbrill and pillory, carried his bailiff to the Guild

Hall, and forced him to swear that he would never again execute any

judgements in the courts. The next year however the town, “taking the

advantage of the time while the said lord was in trouble about the

murder of King Edward the Second in his castle of Berkeley,” settled

the matter for ever by an opportune payment to the King of £40, for

which the mayor and burgesses obtained a confirmation of all their

charters, and especially that which granted that Redcliffe Street

should be within their jurisdiction.

No sooner was the dispute finally decided than rancour quickly died

away, and the burgesses of Bristol settled down into the most friendly

relations with Berkeley castle. The lords of Berkeley took to trading

in wool and corn and wine, and went partners with Bristol men in

robbing carracks of Genoa as well as in lawful traffic.[584] So far had

the wheel of fortune turned that one of the lords who made a treaty of

peace with the Earl and Countess of Shrewsbury meekly appeared before

the mayor and council of Bristol to give surety;[585] and when he went

out to fight at Nibley the Bristol merchants sent men to his help.[586]

The alliance was cemented by marriage when a Berkeley in 1475 took

to wife a daughter of the mayor of Bristol;[587] and when she died

in 1517 the mayor, the master of the Guild, the aldermen, sheriffs,

chamberlains, and wardens of Bristol, and thirty-three crafts, followed

the coffin with two hundred torches—altogether a multitude of five or

six thousand people. A “drinking” was made by the family for the mayor

and his brethren in St. Mary’s Hall, at which they were entertained

with a first course of cakes, comfits, and ale, followed by another

of marmalade, snoket, red wine, and claret, and a third of wafers and

blanch powder, with romney and muscatel; “and I thank God,” wrote the

steward, “no plate nor spoons was lost, yet there was twenty dozen

spoons.”[588]

III. Ecclesiastical corporations also nominally held their property in

the various towns by the usual feudal tenure, just like the lay lords;

and when a borough formally stated its theoretic relations with them

both lay and spiritual lords were put on exactly the same level. The

“Customs” of Hereford show us the ideal view of these relations as the

burghers liked to picture them. “Fees” within the walls[589] were held

by both ecclesiastical and lay lords, whose tenants desired a share in

the city privileges, and the Hereford men classed them all together

under a common description. “There are some lords and their tenants

who are dwellers and holders of lands and tenements within the said

bounds, which they hold by a certain service which is called ‘liberum

feodum’; because long ago they besought us that they might be of us,

and they would be rated and taxed with us, and they are free among us

concerning toll and all other customs and services by us made, but

concerning their foreign services which they do, or ought to do, and of

old have done, their lords are not excluded by us nor by our liberties;

for we never use to intermix ourselves with them in any things touching

those tenures, but only with those which concern us, or their tenures

which for a time hath been of our condition.”[590] Tenants still bound

to render feudal services to their lords were not reckoned among the

true aristocracy of the freemen, who in admitting them to a limited

fellowship marked their sense of the difference of status between the

free burgher and the man who was but half emancipated; “and such men

ought not to be called citizens or our fellow citizens ... because they

are ‘natives,’ or born in the behalf of their lords, and do hold their

tenements by foreign services and are not burgesses.” It was only when

a tenant bought a house in the city and was in scot and lot with the

citizens, that they allowed that he “is free and of our condition; but

let him take heed to himself that he depart not from the city to any

place into the power of his lord.”[591]

But the municipality was perfectly firm in the assertion of the

authority which it had a right to exercise over all those who were

admitted to the privileges of the common trade, and took a very decided

tone with the spiritual as well as with the lay lords. To the Hereford

burghers it was obvious that the ecclesiastical tenants only enjoyed

a share in the town liberties by the grace of the citizens, and in

virtue of “a composition betwixt us and them, which we for reverence

to God and to the Church our mother had granted the same unto them;

and also for divers alms to be given to our citizens and other poor

and impotent of our city in an almshouse by the keeper of the same

for ever. And it was not our intentions that these men, the tenants

of the bishop, dean, and chapter should have nor enjoy our laws and

customs, unless after the same manner as we enjoy them”—that is, as

they went on carefully to explain, every one must acknowledge law as

well as privilege, and be subject like the citizens to authority. They

were all to be obedient to the Bailiff for the execution of the King’s

writs; nor could they claim any immunities or independent jurisdiction

in the King’s highway, seeing that all offenders taken there were to

be judged by the city Bailiff. If the peace or the tranquillity of

Hereford was disturbed by the tenants of any fee, the city Bailiff,

“taking with him the bailiff of that fee and twelve of the most

discreetest and stoutest men of the whole city,” might “by all way of

rigour” compel the offenders to come before them, and force them to end

their discords and make amends; if they refused, the whole community

“shall account and hold them as rebels; and that they come not among

them in their congregations.”[592] All bailiffs, whether of Church

estates or others, were bound to help the chief Bailiff of the city in

apprehending thieves and malefactors and keeping order. A vagabond,

even if he were an ecclesiastical tenant, who made a noise at night “to

the terror of his fellow-citizens,” might be taken up by any inhabitant

and brought to the city jail till one o’clock the next day; when, in

polite recognition of the lower jurisdictions, he was solemnly handed

over in a public place to the bailiff of his own fee, by him to be kept

in prison for a day and a night, and then returned to the city prison,

“there to stay until he hath made amends as the Bailiff and commonalty

shall think fit.” The tenants of the various fees were allowed to

plead in the town courts at their pleasure, a privilege not granted to

aliens; and in matters touching frankpledge, or anything “which could

not be amended in the courts of those lords,” the city claimed rights

of arbitration, and power to determine such cases “according to the

laws of the city and not according to the customs, unless it be by

special favour of the commonalty.”[593] All questions concerning lands

and tenements in the city were to be decided by the free citizens only;

and if ecclesiastical tenants refused to submit to the jurisdiction of

the city magistrates and absented themselves from the court, “then our

chief Bailiff, calling unto him six or more witnesses of his citizens,

shall go to the cathedral church, and there before the chapter shall

notify or declare the disobedience of their bailiffs and of their

tenants.” If the canons would not assist or agree, the Bailiff should

announce that he must then proceed himself to administer full justice,

though “by his will or knowledge he would not hurt the liberties

of their mother the Church.” This concession to ecclesiastical

sensibilities was apparently looked on by the men of Hereford as a

proof of fine magnanimity. “And it was not wont so to be done, but that

there was a composition had between us, which we for the reverence of

God and the tranquillity of their tenants and our citizens, had granted

unto them.”

All this story, however, comes to us from the side of the town, and

has something of the ring of a lordly municipal pride; it almost sounds

like an ideal view of the compromise between the contracting powers as

conceived by the burghers, and one to which the Church party must have

demurred. At any rate by whatever means the municipality of Hereford

had won a jurisdiction of this sort over the bishop’s tenants, it was

singular in the possession of such authority, which has no parallel in

towns like Canterbury, York, Lincoln, Norwich, Exeter, and many more.

But the situation, even as the citizens put it, is so complicated in

its arrangements that we could scarcely wonder if a state of truce

depending on provisions so elaborate should under provocation be

transformed into a state of open war; nor can we question the wisdom of

townspeople everywhere in making it their fixed purpose to establish

one undivided and supreme law for the government of each community. How

important the question at issue really was to the town’s life we may

see from the story of Winchester.

The mayor of Winchester was at the head of what seems, on paper at

least, a powerful and elaborate corporation, worthy of a great city

which held itself to have been built “in the age of the world 2995,

ninety-nine years before the building of Rome,” and “environed with

stone walls” exactly 533 years later.[594] A common assembly met twice

a year. There were two coroners and two constables, six aldermen of

the wards with their six beadles, a town clerk and four serjeants,

a council of twenty-four elected every year, and four auditors of

this council, besides a body of twelve jurors chosen whenever there

was necessity, who sat at “the Pavilion,” and with whom the mayor

perambulated the liberties to view the rivulets and rivers.[595] The

boundaries of the city were apparently marked out by a rough square

formed by the walls and ditch; but to the mayor and aldermen of the

fifteenth century, the idea that their authority should reach as far

as the limits allowed by the girth of the walls would have seemed a

far-off counsel of perfection.

For right across the city from the east to the west gates stretched the

High Street, cutting the town into two equal halves; and to the south

of the High Street one may say roughly that the mayor had no authority

at all. Near the west gate stood the King’s castle, where municipal

law of course did not run. Beside the castle lay the great convent of

S. Swithun, and next to it the cathedral, both fenced round by a wall

which shut out all lay jurisdiction or intrusion of any kind. Nearer

to the east gate lay the palace of the bishop, who was also of course

exempt from secular interference, and who ruled with supreme authority

over the bishop’s Soke that stretched away beyond the gate, and took

tolls of all merchandise that passed along the river.[596] His tenants

while remaining outside municipal control had still the right to buy

and sell all kinds of merchandize in the city which according to the

burghers’ complaint was to their hurt and loss; and the exceeding

difficulty of any regulation of trade in the midst of this competition

of privileged workers, with the ruin of the city treasury which it

threatened, are shown by a quarrel between the bishop and the burghers

as to a street which the bishop had claimed as his property in 1275;

for when people discovered that in that liberty so appropriated they

paid nothing, since the city bailiff could not enter it to make

distraint, nearly all the clothworkers forthwith withdrew themselves

from the other streets and went to live there to the manifest loss of

the community, and the great profit of the bishop.[597]

The northern part of the town was more than half given up to fields

and gardens, the shops and houses of traders and artizans forming but

a narrow settlement that gathered closely along the central street and

the lanes that opened from it. And even of this district a part was

wholly withdrawn from the city jurisdiction. The Queens, whose “morning

gift” Winchester was, lived “tax free” in the Queen’s House opposite

the King’s palace near the west gate, and took rent and tolls from the

row of Queen’s stalls on the High Street. At the east gate was another

belt of ecclesiastical property—the settlements of the Franciscans and

Dominicans,—and next to them a group of poor houses depending on S.

Swithun’s.[598] Right in the middle of the town, opposite the Guild

Hall in the High Street, was the liberty of “Godbeate” belonging to S.

Swithun’s, where the writ of the King or the authority of the city had

no power; and whose church formed a sanctuary always open for ill-doers

flying from municipal justice. The very curfew-bell which hung in its

tower rang out from land that defied the mayor’s authority.[599]

Winchester had not even control of its own gates. The bishop had charge

of one; and two were in the hands of the convent, which in times of

civil war could freely admit within the city walls the armies of the

side opposed to the townsfolk.[600] Even the commerce of the place

was taken out of the burghers hands. Not only did the bishop take

tolls of the river traffic, but once a year when the great fair of S.

Giles’ took place he assumed supreme command in Winchester; for the

time all civic government was altogether suspended; the bishop closed

all shops in and round the town; traders coming with their cloth and

woollen goods, their wines, their pottery, their brass-work, or their

eastern spices, were subject to his jurisdiction, and handed over to

him the biggest share of the profits, which he divided with the various

religious establishments in the city.[601] At other times the King’s

chamberlains and the King’s clerk of the market regulated business in

their master’s interest, and collected the dues of the market and tolls

on every load carried by man or horse into the town.[602]

Winchester suffered also from the memory of its ancient state as the

capital and residence of the West Saxon Kings; and its mayor almost

alone among the mayors of English towns in the fifteenth century had to

go to London to take his oath of office from the King’s judges,[603]

just as the mayor of London does to this day. He could win neither

freedom nor independence. At home he was beset with dangers; he might

be imprisoned by the King for one offence, and punished by the bishop

for another.[604] Against such odds as the burghers had to face it

was almost hopeless for any corporation to contend; and the helpless

townsfolk could but show their impatience and discontent in petty

quarrels with the convent as to the site of a market, or blindly do

battle for worthless Kings such as Henry the Third or Edward the

Second if the monks took up the opposite party.[605] The struggle

for independence has no fine record of stirring incidents; but that

there should have been any conflict at all before the settling down of

quiescence and final apathy is a striking instance of the vitality and

persistence of municipal institutions.

It is impossible not to attribute to the hopeless situation of the

municipality before the rival authorities in the city, and especially

the powerful lords of convent and cathedral, much of the calamity of

its history. For at a time when prosperity was generally increasing,

its fortunes steadily sank. In 1450 the citizens drew a terrible

picture of the local distress, not in the vague phrases which we meet

with elsewhere when for some special purpose happier boroughs put on a

temporary show of distress, but with a minute exactness which betrays

the truth and the whole measure of their suffering. Winchester, they

declared, “is become right desolate.” Nine hundred and ninety-seven

houses stood empty, and in seventeen parish churches there was no

longer any service. A list is given of eleven streets “that be fallen

down in the city of Winchester within eighty years last passed”; and in

each case an account is added of the number of householders that had

formerly lived in the street, a hundred, a hundred and forty, or two

hundred, as the case might be, where there were now but two or three

left. Since the last Parliament held there eighty-one households had

fallen. “The desolation of the said poor city is so great, and yearly

falling, for there is such a decay and unwin, that without gracious

comfort of the King our sovereign lord, the mayor and the bailiffs

must of necessity cease, and deliver up the city and the keys into

the King’s hands.”[606] To produce a distress such as this no doubt

industrial causes were at work, and Winchester probably suffered as

Canterbury did from changes in the woollen manufacture and in trade

routes. But nowhere in any considerable city do we find a parallel

to the utter ruin of this unfortunate community. Nowhere, on the

other hand, were the conditions of municipal life so fatal, if once

prosperity began to dwindle or the pressure of outward circumstances

became such as to call on the resources of the people. Through the

breaking up of the city into separate and independent fragments

the whole burden of any difficulty had to be borne by the little

company of inhabitants governed by the mayor; and so heavily did the

common municipal charges and expenses fall on the scanty population

of burghers shut into the narrow area which was under municipal

government, and from which alone the authorities could gather the

fee-farm and the royal taxes, maintain the bridge and walls, provide

householders for the nightly watch, and furnish men and arms for the

defence of the city; and we do not wonder that the inhabitants at last

began to renounce, or refuse to accept, a franchise which brought such

formidable responsibilities, or that they sought to escape from a city

doomed to ruin. An attempt was made in 1430 to revive manufacture

and commerce by an invitation to all kinds of traders and artificers

to come and do business in Winchester free of toll.[607] But the

experiment in free trade was quickly abandoned, probably because the

corporation could not meet the heavy yearly expenses without the

customary taxes levied on trade;[608] and in 1450 the citizens laid a

petition before Henry the Sixth, praying him to consider the extent of

their distress. They were bound, they said, to pay yearly a rent of

112 marks to the King, “for the which said fee-farm so to be paid your

bailiffs have little or naught of certainty to raise it of, but only

of casualties and yearly leases £40 or more.” There was further a sum

of £50 10_s._ 4_d._ for the tax of the fifteenth, “the which when it

is levyable, some one man in the said city is set unto four marks and

some five marks, because your said city is desolate of people.” Then

came a sum of 60_s._ to be paid yearly to the Magdalen Hospital;[609]

and besides that there were the expenses of two burgesses to Parliament

who cost 4_s._ a day; “and also the great charges and daily costs the

which your said poor city beareth about the enclosing and murage of

your said city.”[610] To add to all their trouble a grant which the

king had made to the municipality in 1439 of forty marks from the

ulnage and subsidies of woollen cloths had been withdrawn again; and

the commonalty sadly entreat that it may be restored.

The King allowed the payment of the forty marks during the next fifty

years, and Winchester made one or two further attempts at mending its

fortunes. The people of Southampton had as long ago as 1406 succeeded

in obtaining a license from the bishop of Winchester, to buy and sell

within their town during the fair of St. Giles;[611] and the mayor and

community of Winchester perhaps hoped to follow this example. In 1451

they raised a debate as to the franchises and customs of the fair,

and interfered with the bishop’s privileges; but their usual ill luck

pursued them and they were obliged to submit and give a promise that

he should never again be disturbed from having the keeping of the city

and the customs aforesaid.[612] A few years later a transient gleam of

hope was cast across the unhappy town when the Italian merchants were

driven out of London in 1456, and in this sudden emergency hired the

“great old mansions”[613] which the Winchester traders had allowed to

fall into decay, putting the owners to heavy expenses for repairs. But

they seem never to have occupied the mansions after all. Perhaps they

were disheartened by the sense of failing trade and oppressive taxes;

or they possibly feared the dangers that might come to them in a town

that had never been allowed powers to govern and defend and deal fairly

by its own townsfolk. In any case they left the big empty houses to go

to Southampton, and Winchester was none the better.[614]

Winchester was an extreme instance of difficulties which were felt

in every other town in a greater or less degree. For scarcely any

important borough was without some ecclesiastical settlement within

its walls, and everywhere the dispute took the gravest form. With the

King or with a neighbouring lord the boroughs might make terms of

peace, or impose conditions as conquerors, but their most imposing

demonstrations were inevitably routed before the power of the Church.

Outbreaks of popular fury in which from time to time the irritation

of the burghers found expression have often been represented as

symptoms of a spirit of malice and misrule by which an ignorant mob was

instigated to attack the most beneficent institution known to their

society and with no justification save from their lawless temper seek

to appropriate to themselves its privileges and possessions. But the

causes of the conflict were more valid and serious. As the instances

given in the next chapter prove, the burghers learned by a genuine

experience to gauge the beneficence of the Church’s claims to temporal

authority. There does not seem to have been in England, as there often

was abroad, the additional stimulus of religious revolt, for the

practical townspeople apparently did not find the slightest difficulty

in distinguishing between spiritual influence and secular jurisdiction,

mainly perhaps because the power of the ecclesiastical potentates in

England was of so limited a kind as to awaken but a moderate fear

and equally moderate excitement. But in face of the secular problem

created by the presence of a rival authority ruling over half the

space enclosed in the town walls—an authority with which no permanent

agreement could ever be concluded and which was manifestly fatal to

the dignity or the success of municipal government—the boroughs were

forced, as a mere matter of self-preservation, into insistent and

reiterated demands that this double rule should be abolished, and

that there should be but one undivided and supreme control in each

community for civil affairs. When the pole-axes and daggers with

which they at first sought to enforce their convictions were laid

aside, they turned to the law-courts and the paper wars of Westminster

to seek a remedy for their grievances; and it is in the records of

trials from the middle of the fifteenth century to the Reformation in

which the pleadings of both sides may be heard that we find the real

justification of the burghers’ claim to civic supremacy, and of their

determined assaults on the political independence of ecclesiastical

communities.

Town Life in the Fifteenth Century, Volume 1 (of 2) · 第 10 / 14 章